


Short Stories and Poetry

by felisArtist



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Poetry, Short Stories, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisArtist/pseuds/felisArtist
Summary: A place to put various small works of mine. The date it was written will be added on the end, as I doubt I'll remember to post them as I write them.
Kudos: 2





	1. Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short story about gender roles, and toxic masculinity.

A young boy stares at a wall of bright pink dolls, smiling faces plastered to each of them. He reaches out to take one of the clear, plastic boxes with open eyes. His mother quickly smacks his hand away.

"Don't you know those are for girls? Come on, the boys' section is this way." She pulls him away by the arm as he stares back at the dolls, wishing he could just hold one. She stops in front of toy trucks, action figures, and play swords. "Get anything you want, just hurry up." He sighs softly and grabs the nearest dump truck, and turns to her. She smiles and walks towards the cashier, and he follows.

The boy stands in the men's clothing section, grey and brown and blue clothes surround him. He's only a year older, but so many of his clothes are too small. His mother holds up various t-shirts and hoodies, clicking her tongue and every so often asking him if he likes the garment. He nods vacantly, but his gaze is pointed towards the floral print dresses and sparkling shirts. He grabs a shirt with the symbol of a popular game on it. He puts it into the cart and continues on.

A few years later, and the boy is walking down the street. He's not a boy anymore, but a young adult. His eyes pass over the other pedestrians, silently judging them. Then, his eyes land on a young boy. The young boy is holding his mothers' hand and smiling. He has on a pale pink skirt and a black patterned shirt. The young man remembers his mothers' words to him, and he opens his mouth.

"Don't you know? Skirts are for girls, a little boy like you shouldn't be wearing one." The little boy flushes and looks down to his feet, and his mother looks at the young man with a disapproving look.

"How could you say such a thing to someone his age? Shame on you." She places a hand on her sons' head, and continues walking forwards past the young man.

(01/02/19)


	2. An Ode to Angels

O Angels,

your Holy light consumes me,

and fills me with warmth,

and the sweet smell

of honey.

Angels,

with your golden swords,

and golden eyes,

ever unblinking.

Your aura of feathers,

soft and comforting

as the belly fur

of a loved cat.

Your sweet song,

fills my head

with words of sky,

of war, and peace.

My Dear Angels,

your smile peaks

between wings,

and takes over me.

The thought of 

your holiness,

swims through my mind.

Your glow,

comparable to none.

The way you take my hand

and guide me,

exhilarates me.

(18/02/19)


	3. How Illuminate Is He

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ode written to Apollo.

Apollo, he who flies

Across the sky.

Providing light and warmth

To all, and to me.

Apollo, how your warmth

Feeds me.

Akin to a flower,

Leaves stretching skyward,

Growing, and yearning

To bloom

The wonderful lyricist you are,

Songs filling my ears,

And the soft sound

Of a Lyre.

Excellently played,

By skilled fingers on

Its strings.

The archer, and medic,

Your arrows deliver both

Healing and Plague,

Never missing your mark.

(05/03/19)


End file.
